


Do You Believe In Ghosts, Detective?

by HereWeShipEverything



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Admin can't sleep again, F/F, F/M, Ghost!Nygma, I'll tag more shit Just relax, I'm Sorry, M/M, So I'm writing this, Where Ed dies and comes back as a ghost, ghost au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 09:36:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17465030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HereWeShipEverything/pseuds/HereWeShipEverything
Summary: "Do you believe in ghosts?" Edward had once asked. Harvey just shook his head, chuckling. He didn't believe Ghosts. He believed monsters, because they were real in Gotham, but not Ghosts. "Nah"Now, he wished he could take those back. Tell him that he does believe, because in front of his desk stood a ghost, it had to be because no way Edward was alive, you know? He had died. He saw it. "Do you believe in Ghosts, Detective?" he asked, a shit eating grin glued to his paper white face. No one seems to be noticing, or seeing him.Oh bloody hell





	Do You Believe In Ghosts, Detective?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok- so I had this idea, Admin couldn't sleep again and decided to write! I'll write how Ed died, but I still haven't decided how exactly he died. Like, got shot, kidnapped or lab accident? We'll see.

His head hurt. He felt like he was being Stabbed again and again, by a giant ice piece, thin yet Long, piercing through his skin, muscle, bone. It hurt. He wanted to scream but no words came out, as if he didn't have a mouth, or as if it ws sewed shut. He couldn't open his eyes too, or they were open, he didn't really know. It was really dark, no source of light. He felt like someone pulling him opposite ways, from arms and legs. He felt something like leather, hitting his back, fast. He could feel drops of chemical eating away the skin on his hand, he could feel everything. He wanted it to stop, it was too much for a human body to handle. He tries to move, but he doesnt feel it too. As if his whole body had gone numb, or as if he was paralyzed, he couldn't move, or feel it move, and yet he could feel every Stab, hit, burn, cut-

_Makeitstopmakeitstop_

There is a voice yelling at him now, he doesn't know who it is, and he doesn't care. Well, maybe he cares, because he can hear someone. That meant good right? That someone would help him.

Right? _Right_...?

And then there is another voice, soft, feminine, at his right side,whispering something. Instead of the pain, he tries to focus on the voices, hoping it would take the pain away. But it doesn't. It doesn't take the pain away, it just adds more pain. It doesn't hurt physically, of course. But emotionally. The voices whisper to him that he is all alone, with the voices and the pain, and that its never gonna stop. The voices are familiar, but with the pain, he can't come to think. He tries screaming again, because the voices are not helping him. He needs something else. He needs a distraction. But his voice doesn't come out. He feels like someone pouring a bottle of whiskey down his throat, forcing him to swallow. It hurts. He always hated alcohol, and the taste, the sharpness, hurts. His throat dries, even if he doesn't speak a word, he doesn't feel his own breathing, his own heartbeat. There is only pain and whispers

  
He is not even sure if he is alive anymore. He would gladly trade this awful feeling for how he was treated back at GCPD. He misses his apartmen, the green neon light enough to light up the entire Place, his comfortable bed, he misses his kitchen, where he would keep himself busy with cooking when he wasn't at work and didn't have anything else to do. He misses the ability to talk, to make the most simple noise. He misses seeing colors. He misses the feeling of the rare Sun of Gotham, hitting his place at a crime scene, in a cold morning. He even misses the cheap thing officers called coffee back at the GCPD. He misses working day and night, only going home when he felt like he was gonna collapse, and embarres himself in front of everyone. He misses everything. He wants it all back. He wants it back.

He feels himself slipping, even though the pain doesn't stop, the voices are the proof. He begs, in his mind.

Let me go back to them.

 _ **Please**_ -

  
And it suddenly stops. The voices who were taunting him, calling him weak, hopeless, it stops. The pain, the feeling of candles burning holes on his back, cuts, stabbing, the weird feeling in his throat. It all disappears. He doesn't know if he can open his eyes, or move his body and he doesn't try. He can feel the air filling his lungs now, he can hear himself taking deep breaths, he can feel his own heart beating inside his chest. He silently thanks whoever heard his voice and made it all stop, letting himself relax. The pain is gone, everything one at a time. Once he is sure he can, that he has the energy and will to, he tried twitching his finger. It works. He feels his finger moving, he feels like crying because just a moment ago he couldn't. Then he tries his eyes.

And immediately shuts it back, because the sudden bright white light hurts his eyes. For a second it feels nice to know that pain won't stay forever too. He doesn't notice himself groaning, but he does. So, his body Works, pain is gone and so is the pain, he has a mouth again, and he can see. He doesn't try opening his eyes again, scared. But he has to do it. He is scared anyways. That the pain will be back, and this time won't stop. The light is his only choice at the moment. So he opens it.

 

  
Edward gasps, his eyes opening wide. He is immediately on sitting position, as he looks around. He is in some sort of bedroom, which looks like something out of a book. There is a king sized bed, a hanger, drawer, mirror, normal stuff. The room is not familiar. He doesn't know where he is, who brought him here, or what happened. Other than the cold wooden ground, and the small pain on the back of his head, as if he fell and hit it, nothing else is wrong with his body. He checks his arms, legs, body, torso. He is happily one piece. He tries to stand up, and notices his entire body is shaking. It's not from the cold, he is not cold, so the only logical explanation is that it's some sort of hangover. Instead of alcohol there was pain. Thankfully he is near a bed, he clings tightly onto whatever is within his reach, and pulls himself up. It takes him great effort to stand up, he refuses to give up and sit back down. He waits for his legs to at least get used to standing up. The shaking stops, and he stops supporting himself with his arms to take a step. It's a little shaky, but it'll do. He won't be able to run, but still.

He huffs a laugh, looking down at his feet. He is so focused on what he is doing, he doesn't notice the knock on his door, before it opens. In panic Edward stumbles back, being forced to support his weight once again. At the door, there is a man in a dark red Suit. It looks fancy, and yet from 1950, maybe? He has a hat, which completes the suit perfectly. And he is sure this man has long brown hair. You know when someone puts that one outfit and it just fits perfectly? Well, Edward can say that to this man. "I see you are awake!" The man speaks, checking his pocket watch -as if the man couldn't look more aesthetic-

"Where am I...?" Edward asks. He needs answers, specific ones first.

"You are at my house. Though I am quite surprised, how did you get here? The doors were locked, no broken windows, none of my men are dead or knocked out." the man in the suit asks, taking another step in. He seems friendly, and nice. Edward hopes he is just right about him.

" I... Don't remember" he replies Embarrassingly. "I am so sorry, Mister...?"

"Ah, who am I to not introduce myself? My name

Is Jervis Tetch" He bows a little, also tipping his hat. The gesture puts a smile on both of their faces.

"Mister Tetch, I am so sorry for what happened I-I don't know how I ended up here s-sir" He stutters. But Mr Tetch just smiles. To be honest he was waiting something like 'you have three minutes to go out' or something like that.

"Please, would you like to stay for some tea? And you look really pale, are you alright Mister..?" this time he asks his name

"Nygma. E-Edward Nygma." He replies, turning around to face the mirror he was sure he saw existing in the corner. In fact, he is pale. He was already a little bit of pale, but he was like paper. "Oh dear..." He mumbles, checking himself in the mirror. His hair is, unlike other times, all ruffled up, and he looks thinner. Not too worrying though. "I-If thats alright with you..." Maybe some rest does sound nice

"Then Mr Nygma, would you like to join me for tea?" Mr Tetch Offers, smiling. Edward accepts the offer, taking small steps, following the man through the halls. The place,

Is simply huge. There are lots of rooms, and so little noise. He wonders who is staying in all these, or what these rooms are for. It's just too much for a family. Mr Tetch slows down, so they could be side to side. The man starts a conversation. He asks what he remembers. Edward says he remembers pretty much everything, but not what happened to him. Edward asks questions about the mansion, and Tetch happily answers.

While on their way to a what looks like dining room, Edward learns that the man loves hats, has two friends staying over, and has guards protecting the place, so if he caused someone trouble, unless he does something bad, he would protect him. It actually warms his heart, this man, Tetch, had just met him and they get along already. And that even if it's for now, it feels nice.

He sits down on the right side of Tetch, on the long table. Jervis tells one of the people to bring them tea, and even tells it nicely. For a second, Edward feels like he is at the right place. The girl looks confused at the request, but does what she is told. The tea smells nice, and it immediately fills the room. He leans forward to get the tea, to wrap his fingers around the warm cup, to take a sip of it, and ease the feeling in his throat. But he never manages to do any of those.

His hands goes through the cup.

  
Both of them scream, because Edward's hand just went through the goddamn cup.

And then he goes through the chair, falling to the floor. He doesn't believe what he saw, it is not right. A human body does not go through solid objects. For a second he considers being drugged, but Mr Tetch is looking scared too. He gets up, because the chair closes his view. Tetch doesn't come too close. "Dear Mr Nygma..." He starts, but doesn't continue. I mean, what do you say to a what, a ghost?

"Oh dear... Oh dear" Edward repeats, slowly pushing himself up, trying to not touch anything. He reaches for the chair, and his hand goes through again. He wishes his hand doesn't go through the next try, and it doesn't. "Okay..." He mumbles. He doesn't know how to react to this. So this explains why he is incredibly pale... "Am I a ghost?" He asks himself. He hasn't seen his other self too, which he is glad. He doesn't think he can handle him right now.

"Mr Nygma... Perhaps we shall call in someone...?" Tetch offers. Edward shakes his head. No one can know about this. They will lock him up, or try to. They Will look at him as if he was a lab rat. And some may even Call him a freak. No, he can't let that happen. He needs answers. The last thing he remembered was his colleagues. Jim, Harvey and Kristen. He doesn't remember the rest. Perhaps they would know what to do, or help him understand.

"I am really sorry, Mr Tetch, but I must return to my colleagues. The last thing I remember were them, so maybe they have an answer. Thank you for for your kind offer, I will not forget your kindness" Edward looks at the man who comes closer, laying a hand on his arm, which doesn't go through. It feels nice to feel Someone else. It feels nice to feel that warmth.

"It's alright. Your precense in the mansion, reminded me that there is still someone out there, or people. Thank you Mr Nygma. If you ever need my help again, I will be glad to help"

 

Edward leaves the mansion without no one paying attention, as if he was invisible to them. He has his phone, thankfully. And also his wallet. He starts walking towards the GCPD.

  
On his way, he learned he can become a true ghost, and not. Which was a terrifying experience he does not Want to repeat.

 

 


End file.
